Night on the Town
by Dark enchanter
Summary: [Oneshot, novelverse] Leo's out for a night on the town, doing a little job for a friend. Will there be casualities? Oh god yes!


**Warning: contains mature content true to the book!**

**Night on the town**

'Twas a fairly good day for someone such as my self to be ittying about on ones oddy knocky, me being Leo, droog of the infamous and vonny bastard Billyboy. Thank Bog I only have to spend my time with him at nochy, he's always off with some sooka during the day, spending all his hard-earned deng. Only way he's gonna get any, short of the old in-out in-out.

Meanwhile, the rest of us have much better uses for our pretty polly. Some of them use it on cancers, if they don't feel like crasting them that is, where the rest of them drown themselves in their good old moloko-plus. Not for me though, not my style, I have other needs. That's where I'm ittying right now, pockets weighed down with polly, going to see an old droogs goods.

I turned into a back alley and walked up to a door, clopping on the door with my rooker. I slooshied the sound of feet coming towards the door, and it was soon opened up to reveal my old droog, Jacques.

"Leo, how art thou Brother?" He asked as soon as soon as he saw me standing there outside his domy.

"Well enough. How's business coming along?" I followed him inside, having been here a thousand times before.

"Really crappy. Everyone's moving to the knifes now, only got loyal customers like you keepin' this going." He opened the door to the living room slightly, to tell his devotchka that we'd be in the back room. I've met her a few times, she has some real horrorshow groodies. Lucky bastard he was, getting those to his self.

"No kidding." It was no secret that people were going off the skag now days, what with drencrom, synthemesc and all your others being offered so cheap down korova, and there being no bother from the rozz, it's no surprise really either. But I much preferred the white stuff, gave you a real buzz it did, not like that malenky nip the milk plus gave you, and seeing as I've got the deng, there's no reason why I shouldn't indulge in the best.

We stepped into his back room and he went over to his box in the corner, looking for the goods. "How much do you want? One gram, two gram..." I had counted up my cutter before hand, and I had a few hundred golly. I could probably only afford a gram of medium quality for that, what with the higher prices.

"Just one I'm afraid." I held out tree hundred in twenties and he took it from me, counting it up to make sure I wasn't playing him. Satisfied, he pulled out one of his small bags from the box and handed to me.

"You want any needles?" He asks. He always asks this, and always gets the same answer.

"No, got plenty at home." It was almost a ritual now, I suppose he asks cause he's in such a desperate need for the deng.

"You know, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't even be selling that stuff. Everyone else buys the strongest stuff we've got, most of them being your starry business-chelloveck. Nadsats don't bother with this stuff you know."

"No tastes, that's what the problem is." I pulled out a cancer and lit it. I offered one to Jacques, he took it and lit up, putting his head back and blowing smoke at the ceiling.

"Actually, there's something I'd like you to help me with. A favour if you will. I'd be willing to pay you good money for it." I continued puffing away at my cancer for a minute, thinking about it.

"What is it?" I wasn't going to commit to anything till I heard the details. That's one of the most important things out here on the streets.

"There's a group hanging around the old filmdrome, selling- knives, is it?" Being not of our generation, his nadsat was a malenky bit behind. I knew where he meant though. A whole banda had set themselves up there, selling small bottles of drencrom and vellocet they had managed to get hold of, Bog knows how. A lot of malchicks had overdosed from adding too much to their moloko, but business was booming. "And it's not helping me any. So, I want you to shut them down and, if possible, bring some of their goods back to me."

Sometimes an opportunity like this will pass you by, and only a fool could ignore it. This, my brothers, was one of those times. There was some oobivatting to be done, and it would be your hero, Leo, here who would be doing it.

* * *

I had went home and given Billyboy a call, told him I wouldn't be there that night. He didn't seem too pleased, but yarbles to him, I have more important business to be dealing with.

For all the bad things I may have said about the korova and its goods, I have to be honest with you, nothing gets you ready for the ultra-violence better than the knives. That's the one thing they've got going for them, and why, against my usual habits, found myself going in there before dealing with business. I decided to get myself a booth, to avoid running into any malchicks looking for a bitva.

I peeted my moloko slowly, enjoying it while I could. I had not used any of the goods Jacques gave me earlier, mixing substances is never a good idea after all, and I was dying for whatever stimulation I could get. That's the other good thing moloko-plus has, you don't have to deal with needles either. You could just sit and relax more. I finished and paid up. Looks like I was a bit low on cutter now. I'd have to fix that.

Found my way to the filmdrome no problem, it's only a five minute walk from the korova. Even stopping to collect some pretty polly from all the starry ones I met along the way, I was there in no time. There they were, down the side alley. There were two of them there, a small guy, who looked unarmed, and a large guy with an oozy, both dressed in the height of nadsat fashion.

I went round the other side of the building, there was to use trying to vred them head-on. I managed to reach the roof of the shop next door to the sinny by climbing on some large bins round back. I ittied across the roof and looked down. My targets were right beneath me. I pulled all the cutter-change from my carmans and tossed it into the air. It rained down upon the two real horrorshow, tolchocking them both on their gullivers like rain. In the confusion, I dropped down silently behind the fat one, landing on my nogas and left rooker in a squatting position, and gave him a skorry slash in the shins wit' me nozh.

He creeched blue murder before falling to his knees, I smashed my sabog into his litso and turned on the other. One swipe across his arm, and he was begging for mercy. He was offering me pretty polly, knives, anything I wanted, should I spare him. I asked him where he was getting his wares from. He told me the name of this veck who worked at the korova, who took some of the goods and sold them to him. Satisfied, I vred him in the guttiwuts and started picking up all my deng I had dropped before. A skorry search of his krovvy-covered platties yielded much more cutter and several bottles of the good stuff. The malchickiwick would live if the millicents showed up soon. But now it was time to go after the source. Finish things up once and for all. Now was the time for the oobivat.

* * *

I sat back in the chair, marvelling at my handiwork. I had let myself in through the okno, so there was broken glass everywhere. It didn't matter, the owner of the flat wouldn't live long enough to give a damn. I had tracked him down through the public phone book. Not too difficult. Afterwards I had pulled out my zippo and the phone box had gone _burn burn burn_ with the paper catching fire real easily. I sat on his bed, eating the various pishchas I found while rummaging through his stuff and slooshying the creaking of springs and a devotchka's creechings from the room above. 

It had well gone midnight by the time anything happened. I could hear the jingling of klootchs and I got into position behind the door (though not so close that I would be injured on opening, my brothers), and waited for opening. He stepped in, and shut the door. It was then that the gloopy veck noticed the window. By then it was too late. I ground my nozh deep into his back, he hadn't a chance. That was how I liked it. No resistance.

Then it was time to go, my job been done. The knives had passed on by over an hour ago, and I felt a bit like celebrating. I was feeling a malenky bit fagged and shagged, but sleep would wait. Right now, there was something waiting for me back at my domy, and I would wait no longer. Yes, tonight would be a good night.

* * *

Well, did you like it? Should I make more? Any advice on improving my nadsat? And finally, here is a disclaimer;

Don't do anything you just read about, it is bloody stupid and could get you killed or arrested. Both of which are bad.


End file.
